


forgiving you (and forgive me)

by bellafaithy



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, M/M, Omegaverse, but i find it fitting with these two so, domestic abuse, growing up hurts, high-school drama, i wrote this originally for taekook years back, ningning was too naive back then, ningning's revenge will make u cry, witch!yeonjun, witches and werewolves cohabit, yehet, yeonjun's a total asshole in the beginning, yoonmin, yoonmin's cute on the other hand tho lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24222439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafaithy/pseuds/bellafaithy
Summary: "I told you!" Yoongi barks out a laugh in disbelief and Yeonjun groans before he smothers his own face against his pillow, pathetically mentally whimpering in his misery."Hyung. Shut up.""Told you karma's a bitch," Yoongi reprimands, swatting gently at the back of Yeonjun's head with a stack of azalea leaves. "Now it's coming back to bite you in the ass, in the worst way you couldn't even imagine."formerly a big bully yeonjun gets overgrown by previously a weak smol lil hueningkai with his hidden demeanor unlocked by yeonjun's initial persistence over milking out all of hueningkai's potentials to the last bit
Relationships: Choi Yeonjun/Huening Kai
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	1. he smells like flame of phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> originally a plot (take it all(go)) made for taekook back in the old age (i think it was 2016, 17? dont remember) even had it posted in a fanfic website before damn  
> basically, got buried down deep in my laptop until i came across it few months and thought u know what, it actually fits with yeonkai setting hmmm  
> im not gonna mention where the original story was posted because i havent used that acc for ages and not planning on resurrecting it. for sentimental stuffs hehe. but! if u do stumble upon it, yep. that's me. dont go looking for it now or im sueing hahahaha

Yeonjun observes with lazy eyes, hand holding on a bright red apple to his lips, sitting on one of the desk scattered to the walls to make way for the boy in front of him to do the sweeping.

He bites into the fruit, the crunching sound had the boy with ebony hair flinching at the sound tearing through the silence of the room.

"You hurry up, boy," Yeonjun says, lips slick from the juice of the apple. He looks down to his Biology notes, not minding the dirty look the latter sends him. "It's past 3 already. You might miss the bus."

"You're the senior," the younger finally speaks, albeit a bit reluctantly. Fear of what the said senior might say for his words.

"I'm aware," Yeonjun replies, unblinking as he read through the chemical composition of the cell. These shits are a bit hard to remember, he thinks in annoyance.

"It's your turn of the week to clean."

"Yes."

"I'm doing it instead."

"So you want a thank you from me?"

"This is bullying."

"There you go. Bright kid. Though you should have pointed it out two weeks ago," Yeonjun looks up from his notes, staring straight into the latter's hard eyes. He smiles widely. "It's adamant for your adjustment to the school. Take it as an example for what you might find in the near future, Huening."

Hueningkai is the new sophomore in school just moved into town a month ago and attended school exactly two weeks ago. He is an average person, from what Yeonjun sees him as.

The plain ebony hair, long past his ears and nape, smaller and shorter than Yeonjun, timid and shy in a way would have looked cute in the eyes of a...'classier' school than theirs. But, really, that kind of behavior is not taken lightly and fondly here.

The thing is, things would have been easier for the said boy, if only he's actually a second year kid and hadn't just jumped grades because he's got the brain of a child prodigy. Ace all of the science and math subjects, Yeonjun muses, twirling his pencil with his fingers.

Why his parents put him in this disgusting school he wonders. They're giving him death wishes.

Hueningkai exhales harshly at Yeonjun’s plain answer. Nevertheless, he keeps sweeping the floor and arranges the chairs according to their desks. Yeonjun wants to smile but hides it behind the bite of his apple.

The first time Hueningkai set his foot in this godforsaken school, he already got the stink eyes from some of the students, mainly boys. The girls just went all googly eyes at him and Yeonjun is sure they hid it well behind their stupid bitchy demeanor. One more week and Yeonjun is positive they’ll force Hueningkai to come join them in the girls’ bathroom.

He had seen the first move of this hellhole (elementary) about to go down when Hueningkai past down the hallway to get to the teacher’s office, way pass the group of rowdy boys eyeing him with envy and distaste. So when one of them trudged towards Hueningkai’s side, wanting to ‘accidentally’ bump the poor kid to the lockers against the wall which would definitely give the kid some good ol’ bruises and bumps on his shoulders and arms, Yeonjun had struck first.

Yeonjun kicked the boy right on the back of his kneecap, sending the boy on a major humiliating fall of the Roman, places his own bag harshly over Hueningkai’s oblivious shoulders and chirped, “Hey, newbie, thanks for carrying this for me.”

Hueningkai had looked so dumfounded that Yeonjun wanted to laugh right there but held it in when the initially abused boy got up and regarded Yeonjun with an angry yell, “The hell was that for, asshole?”

“Nothing. You were on my way,” Yeonjun had said sweetly, Hueningkai turning around to jump in surprise at the hurt male. “Err, are you okay—”

“Hueningkaiiii,” Hueningkai cringed at the way his family name is being pronounced and at Yeonjun’s tone. “You wanted to go to the office? Be my guest. Bring my bag over with you too.”

Hueningkai clearly didn’t understand the whole situation but he quickly walked away when Yeonjun eyed him sharply, lips nonchalant and eyes kohl-rimmed to sharpen the edges of his eyes. The group and the boy joined up in front of Yeonjun in some kind of make-shift armour and Yeonjun snickers at this.

“What’s so funny, fat ass?” one of them retorted but quickly sobered up at Yeonjun’s narrowed eyes. Yeonjun stepped up into their personal space, height not quite reaching theirs (these stupids were third-years, goddamnit) but authoritatively towering them with his demeanor and aura.

“At least this fat ass can knock your ass in the middle of seconds,” Yeonjun threatens darkly, fists clenched at these boys’ dareness to mock his physicals. Sure, Yeonjun is chubbier and has wider waist length than any other average teenagers, but Yeonjun is also physically and mentally stronger and wittier than any other average teenagers.

 _""_ Damn Canises, Yeonjun cursed with a muted growl. The boys stiffened, eyes widening in horror, suddenly looking very small and intimidated at the aura emanating from Yeonjun, slowly darting towards them. "You should know how much I can knock you over if you could tell who I am now."

In a matter of seconds, the boys had scrambled away at Yeonjun’s warnings and the former sighed exasperatedly. _If most of canis are like the likes of them, our population would just stay as myths and eventually extinct just like how Homo Sapiens predicted us as._

The area of the hallway around Yeonjun had gone quite at the recent event and Yeonjun shrugged it off nonchalantly as he went pass the students flinching away at his presence.

Seeing Hueningkai still holding onto his bag as he conversed with their homeroom teacher had Yeonjun feeling ticklish somewhere around his chest. When he came to them, the teacher had piped up and said, “Yeonjun, why is our newbie here carrying around your bag like a bellboy?”

“I asked him to. I had a business to finish just now and seeing he was going to the office I thought it would be easier if I asked him to carry it here for me,” Yeonjun took the bag from Hueningkai’s hold and slung it over his shoulders without batting an eye at the confused boy.

“Well, okay. So, Hueningkai, you understand the whole schedule and classes to attend, right?” Hueningkai nodded his head softly without a word.

“Do you have someone to tend to Hueningkai around the school, teacher?” Yeonjun asked, cutting her off. The teacher raised an eyebrow at him and looked at Hueningkai deeply. “…No.”

“You might want someone who could really assist him throughout the school year because there’re a lot of us in here and believe it or not, Hueningkai’s already got himself red targets all over his head,” the teacher gawked at him at the intel, Hueningkai confusingly looking up at him at the statement.

“Red target?” the boy asked, voice soft and gentle. _Oh boy_ , Yeonjun mentally groans. _This is going to be a_ long _day._

“What do you mean, Yeonjun? You can’t be serious—”

“Look, I may be the least person who you could trust over something fragile and …soft,” Yeonjun looked at Hueningkai as he said this, Hueningkai cringing at the look Yeonjun regarded him with. Small, he wanted to say. And oh so painfully timid looking, goddamnit. “But I never lie and I do my job well and you know this better than anyone else.”

The teacher holds back whatever she has to say and flicks doubtful eyes towards Hueningkai. The boy looks so utterly lost that Yeonjun doesn’t even care to hold back his eye roll. So he bows down to the teacher for the ounce of respect he still has for her and makes his way out of there after throwing back a “I’ve gave my fair share of warning for the month, teach. You might have to work extra if that kid really is a prodigy to this school like what they’re talking right now.”

The teachers never assigned Yeonjun as the tour guide for Hueningkai, but they did give him the _eye_ when they told to the entire class to take care of little Hueningkai, as in, the weight is actually placed mostly over Yeonjun’s broad shoulders.

As in, _you better make sure this kid is in good shape for however long he’s in here if you still want those extra credits_.

Yeonjun isn’t much of a brash, far from it if one ask this from him. He considers himself as one who reacts on logistics and within his reign of ability, like twisting someone’s arm around enough to pop their shoulder if he’s sure enough he can execute it with assurance that they will never ever get back at him to bite him in the ass.

Yeonjun is definitely not a mere student who these kids could just tamper with. He has the physical and personality that would call for any of those humiliating attempts on him but his behavior and temper always has them reeling back in surprise.

In his first year of middle school, Yeonjun already had his name spewing from numerous student bodies in school, courtesy to some seniors a year and two older than him who knew him from primary school.

 _Go check him out if you wanna go out on something. He has the accurate temper and reaction you’ll need_ , they say. Yeonjun doesn’t get what they mean by that, but he figures the bullies and school domineering wannabes take pleasure in facing his seething anger and potty mouth. Yeonjun hates vulgar words but when some of these imbeciles fucking decided that seeing him tripping over the stairs on his way down to the cafe was a good idea and had a go for it, he just couldn’t help but just _wiped_ their asses to the floor.

Hot tempered as he is, he’s one of the most reliable teacher’s pet when it comes down to being the snoop dog for the school, sniffing around for any beyond society acceptance misbehaving students or bullies and reporting it back to _absolutely_ reliable teachers who wouldn’t sit down and let it slide without some actions.

 _We appreciate your honesty and your lack of involvement in any of the misdeeds done in school_ , one of the teachers with better civilization had told him.

_Well, I guess being a Canis has its advantages._

He bites into the last edible flesh of the apple, throwing it far outside of the window for it to lend precisely inside a plant pot. Call him environmental terrorist but that piece of organic material is going to be a fucking good fertilizer for that tiny plant.

The way his mind works, though.

“Lithering is prohibited,” Hueningkai says softly, scooping up the dusts and small trashes into the trash scoop, flicking up his gazes once in a while to meet Yeonjun’s impassive ones. Yeonjun gives him a shrug and closes the book in his lap.

“Cleaning is done,” he announces, much to Hueningkai’s confusion. Yeonjun comes up to him and ignores the visible flinch to his shoulders when he snatches the broom stick and scoop from his hands.

“Pack your things up and head to your tuition,” he dumps the trash into the dustbin and goes to place them in the store.

He promises Yoongi that he’ll be back by five and it’s almost four and he still hasn’t got that one chop mastered yet. Waiting for the kid to finish his duty (Yeonjun’s, seriously) is going to steal away his precious time so he might as well shoo the boy out before some people decides to pry.

When he comes into the classroom, Hueningkai is still at the same spot, fidgety and bemused to what he should do. Yeonjun rolls his eyes and fetches his belongings.

“I don’t have a tuition.”

“You don’t?” the older sounds a bit perplexed at this as he faces the younger. Hueningkai nods affirmatively. A bright student with impossibly colourful grades doesn’t even need extra classes for it. Damn.

“Fine,” Yeonjun is about to bolt out of the room for the said practice, when it clicks in his head and he swirls back and heads towards the smaller boy.

“Hey,” he calls. Hueningkai looks up and is met with a smack square to his nose. He staggers a few steps back at the force and the registered pain and glowers up at the perpetrator.

“What the hell is that for?” he hisses. Yeonjun raises an eyebrow at the quick defense and crumble of shy demeanor. _So, this is how you get when you face threats_ , he muses.

“Lesson of the day,” he pulls up a strap of his bag up his shoulder to stop it from sagging down, face nonchalant and tone unapologetic. Hueningkai holds his nose with tamed fury in his eyes, shoulders squared and he’s already emitting a strong smell of aggravation towards him. “Guards up, fifteen hours a day, minimal. Expect more of this by tomorrow and be ready by then.”

_He smells like flame of phoenix._

Yeonjun leaves without another word, Hueningkai standing there feeling like a complete fool and questions his unfortunate being for being sent into this school.


	2. if it aint me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He leans down, noticing the subtle hint of the shape of his knuckles forming at Hueningkai’s left jawline in bluish purple. “You wanna put up a fight?” he whispers to his face.
> 
> Hueningkai’s chest is heaving with stomped anger, the ring of his brown eyes shining a dim orange if a human looks closely. Yeonjun smirks.
> 
> “The old lab of the Lil Chernobyl’s at three and a half. We’ll make a deal while we’re at it.”

The first few early weeks of school, it is known school-wide that nobody messes with Hueningkai except Yeonjun himself. And Yeonjun makes sure this implicit fact is as clear as the day for those who still refuses to accept it.

Hueningkai is walking towards his locker when a hard slap gets thrown across the back of his head and he cups the assaulted spot with an angry bark of pain, twirls around to see Yeonjun smiling innocently at him.

“Afternoon, Huening,” he coos. Hueningkai’s lips twitch in vexation at the random hit and continue walking his steps to the locker for his books.

Before he could key in his code, something drops into his arms and he looks down to see an armful of Yeonjun’s bag. The brat grins coyly and says over his shoulder, “You’re heading to our class, right? By then, bring my bag too, will ya’?”

Some students whisper and snort at the blatant yet harmless bullying, some even enjoying the free show of a bookworm nerd like young Hueningkai getting bossed around by one of the only feared student in school.

This makes Hueningkai boils with rage and humiliation at being treated like this, for fuck’s sake it’s already been three weeks. Yeonjun isn’t showing any indication of tamping it down, in fact, going as far as shaming Hueningkai in public by giving them the senses that he could do whatever he wants with the newbie.

Pent up with frustration and ire, he throws the bag square against Yeonjun’s retreating back and lounges over the older’s back before the other could as much as yelp in pained surprise.

The fight could be referred to a squabble, to be honest, with Yeonjun holding back from smacking Hueningkai back twice the pain the younger inflicts on him. But it is also apparently rough and hazardous enough that the students steps away from the flying sets of limbs and screams, witnessing with apprehension as Yeonjun successfully rolls them over and punches Hueningkai square to the jaw to shut him up.

Heaving in slight annoyance, he sweeps threatening eyes over the crowd visibly circling the two as if there’s about to be an impromptu arena fight about to happen. With unspoken dominance, the crowd dissipates and mends their own business.

Hueningkai glares daggers up at him by the time he looks down, both his knees pinning the younger’s hands down and he’s seated over his torso. In human hindsight, Yeonjun would seem to be crushing the boy under his overweight body for how skinny Hueningkai looks.

But Yeonjun knows better. Justification to the famous yet almost worn-out phrase: don’t judge a book by its cover, literally.

He leans down, noticing the subtle hint of the shape of his knuckles forming at Hueningkai’s left jawline in bluish purple. “You wanna put a fight?” he whispers to his face.

Hueningkai’s chest is heaving with stomped anger, the ring of his brown eyes shining a dim orange if a human looks closely. Yeonjun smirks.

“The old lab of the Lil Chernobyl’s at three and a half. We’ll make a deal while we’re at it.”

Something about Canis Lupus that none of their kind could deny is: their overly inflated pride. Almost like the devil itself. Pride is what drives them to do things beyond their comprehension and line of control. Same as the Homo Sapiens, but the consequences are always almost so terrible that there is almost no way of mending it.

Humans call them werewolves since ancient time, but it had always begun with the capital C and L, something that Yeonjun treasures about his heritage. Surprise surprise.

Half human, half wolf. A Canis Lupus, in another word means the grey wolf. They were referred to as that because the first ever werewolf to be seen by the eyes of the human who survive the day to spread the word had been a shade of dirty grey in his wolf form, a good eight feet long in body length and shrubby fur sticking up high and sharp in its demise and defense.

There wasn’t really an exact time to when the race started, but it was somewhere around mid-sixteenth and seventeenth century, the hail years for the witches, a dark time for these kind in the West.

Canises and humans co-existed centuries ago when witches and Canises merged to create a more peaceful friendly environment for their own benefits when they found that human population is at the better advantages. Wars are never kind and they had nearly wiped out all two of these races.

Homo Sapiens of the earlier days would come and tell you explicit details of these two parties.

Humans had long interpreted them as nothing but myths and tales, though. One thing you can always depend on their nature: their infinite stupidity and ignorance of the world where they are just a tiny fragment of it.

“I can’t believe this,” Yeonjun complains, poutingly adjusting the straps of leather around his palm and forefinger and thumb while attempting to balance a twelve kilos weight bow in his hand. “I’ve been working my ass off for this for like a month now and I’m still awkward about aiming bull’s eye and you’re already there when you haven’t even reached two weeks.”

Jaemin laughs good-naturedly at the indirect compliment from him, after striking the fifth mark of the first half an hour of their practice. Yeonjun’s lips twitch. “This is just three hundred meters, Junnie.”

“ _Two weeks_.”

“Hey, don’t get too worked up by it! All's well if you are determined and dedicated enough. Besides, you’re still awkward about the posture of aiming. You gonna hit your eyes at some point,” Jaemin helpfully says, coming over to nudge Yeonjun's elbow higher above his chin from where he's pulling back the bow.

"You really suck at this," Jaemin laughs affectionately as Yeonjun loses the bull’s eye and hits the 20 marks, pouting in defeat. "I'm amazed you're still coming along. Most people dropped out at the 40th tries."

"They're losers who whine at their own inability but won't try to fix the damn thing," Yeonjun grumbles, rubbing tenderly at the blisters forming at the outer side of his left index finger, stinging after multiple shots.

"Besides, I'm trying to work on my target and accuracy. No use in being great in combat if I couldn't even throw a pitch straight to a guy's head if he has a dagger thrown at me."

"You and your flair for dramatic life, Junnie," Jaemin sighs in a regretful manner mothers use to have when they see their child not taking an example from their own misfortunes. "Is the exact clone of the Life on the Line. I can't even."

"It's not even that rough, compared to Yoongi's. He's lived harder," Yeonjun mutters, vaguely recalling that one night Yoongi came home at 2 something in the morning, sneaking inside their bedroom bloody and disoriented. He had talked Yeonjun out of crying it out to their parents because Yeonjun was 9 back when Yoongi was fucking bleeding from his arms and legs.

_it's just a harmless scuffle with some street bad guys,_ Yoongi had consoled him with, his usually dark eyes glowing a distinct blue in the darkness of their bedroom. 

“Do I want to know?” Jaemin asks. Yeonjun shrugs and raises an eyebrow at him playfully. “Do you?”

“No, don’t mind me—”

“Yeonjun,” both of them snap their head around at the source of the voice to see a school teenager—from Yeonjun’s school, judging from the school uniform—looking back at them with calculating eyes. His skin is already mildly flushed at the cheeks. Yeonjun guesses he must has been running towards this place just now.

“Oh,” Jaemin glances at Yeonjun and nudges Yeonjun’s arm with the tip of his bow. “You know this kid?”

“Yea, a newbie,” Yeonjun unstrapped his gloves and hands it and his bow with the arrows to the blond. “Hueningkai! You came. Thought you would bail out of me on this one. Minhyuk, can you clean up after me, just this one? I have some business with the kid.”

The so-called kid, Hueningkai, twitches and Jaemin blinks rather dubiously before nodding, Yeonjun already gathering his things and slinging his knapsack over his shoulder.

“Come on,” he ushers Hueningkai, mischief gleaming in his eyes. Hueningkai’s grip tightens on the straps of his bag. “This way.”

Yeonjun leads Hueningkai out of the little field that he and Jaemin had practiced their aims earlier towards the back of an old school block that sits like a crumpled life beside the abandoned field. This is the part of the decades old school that was closed down years back due to bankruptcy and few people are brave enough to get inside the compound because it is believed that drug addicts and some rebellious groups of the society reside there temporarily from time to time. That’s why teenagers had referred to this place as Lil Chernobyl. Because it looks just like a part of the post nuclear disaster place. Some said it is haunted, too.

Yeonjun calls it bullshit, though. Prove is, he and Jaemin has been teetering around this area for the past couple of months for the fun of it. No harm in that.

Yeonjun brings himself closer to the oak tree right at the back of the old lab, where strangely it stands tall and thick, its thick lush green hovering over him. Yeonjun drops his knapsack beneath it and works his fingers, cracking after the long hour of archery. He hears a thud behind him and turns. “So, kid—”

He is met with a fist directed towards his face and he quickly dodge it, not sparing a second to be wasted over the shock of being ambushed like that. Well, he considers this as ambushing.

Hueningkai grits his teeth and swings his fists and kicks repeatedly towards the older, rage clearly burning in his eyes. Wow. He must have been bottling it up all these times to be blowing up like this. Yeonjun clicks his tongue as he avoids a kick towards his gut.

“First lesson, Huening—” Hueningkai punches at his face but Yeonjun catches it in his hand swiftly and bends Hueningkai’s arm down, Hueningkai’s dragged forward slightly at the pull and their proximity is so close Yeonjun can feel his hot angry breath. “Never, ever, try to catch someone off-guarded in a one-on-one fight where it doesn’t even begin yet.”

Hueningkai’s eyes twitch again and he shoves at him, Yeonjun jumping backwards to give him space as the kid collects himself for the next attack. “Try avoiding that. You may never know if that person is actually dumb enough to underestimate your ability or just waiting for an opening.”

“Stop talking bullshit,” Hueningkai hisses, eyes darkening. Yeonjun whistles. “Wow, your bad side is showing. Is this how it is when the good guy is fighting? All bark but no bite?”

“I’ll show you bite, you cocky bastard,” Hueningkai growls and Yeonjun can’t help but picture a small bunny emoticon, trying to act tough but is actually nothing but flesh and fur, and a little bit of claws and small hind kicks. Hueningkai comes to him and Yeonjun braces himself on the ground with his foot rooted to the ground.

“Am not being cocky. Just that I know I’m better than you at this.”

Yeonjun lights up a cigarette and takes a whiff, blowing the smoke out in a long languid manner and cringing at the aftertaste. “You know, I’ve always hated the ending taste of this. It always leaves this stupid bitter tangy taste at the back of my throat. I don’t get why people liked that so much.”

“So what?”

“It’s frustrating!” Yeonjun groans, eyeing the stick of death in between his fingers as if it’s the reason he’s close to failing Geography. “I want the nicotine rush but ended up getting this instead.”

“You can’t get high from the smoke itself, you—why the hell am I entertaining you?” the voice speaks underneath him. Yeonjun looks down and pouts. “Because you just lost to me and you owe me a company.”

“I don’t owe you anything, bastard,” Hueningkai grunts, cheek squished against the dry grass. “Get off of me. You’re freaking heavy.”

“Hey! Just because I’m fat, don’t call me out like that!”

“I’m not—just get off of me!”

Yeonjun’s currently had Hueningkai pinned on the ground on his front, Yeonjun sitting over his back with his knees pinning his arms above his head. Yeonjun’s had it pretty easy on him considering how inexperienced Hueningkai is when it comes to fighting. He figures the closest thing to a fight Hueningkai has ever engaged into before this one is a hot debate. With his pervious school’s head student council.

“You’re bad at this,” Yeonjun shakes his head like a disappointed mother. “Fighting. Yet you’re a genius. A terrible combination.”

“Who cares? This is a civilized society and—that hurts, _damnit_ —students fighting is a thing in the past,” Hueningkai retorts.

Yeonjun huffs and takes another drag of his cigarette. “What kind of a world have you been living in all this time, kid?”

“None of your business.”

“Second lesson: take breaks in between fighting so that you can analyze your situation. Don’t just straight on give whatever the hell you’ve got. You’ll exhaust yourself first and the next thing you know, you’re having a concussion.”

“The hell you’re giving me these tips for?” Hueningkai struggles in such a distressful way that Yeonjun finally takes pity on him and gets up. The kid immediately scoots away and regards him with a look that is so full of disgrace and loathe that it makes Yeonjun pouts.

He’s given the kid pretty held back blows. Blue-ish purple is already forming around Hueningkai’s cheekbone and temple, his lips bleeding and his ankle and wrists close to fracturing. Even the previous punch to his face earlier morning hadn’t really resides well on his face. But he takes no heed of it.

Hueningkai will be fine. He’s one of _them_ anyway.

“You’re the genius. Think about it,” Yeonjun sits on a crouch, eyeing the kid as he hastily tries to get up on jelly legs, bones distinctively cracking as he hisses in pain. Yeonjun bites his lip.

Hmmm. Maybe he was too tough on the kid just now. He is still new to this sooo.

“What have I been doing to you for the past few weeks, huh? Analyze that, smartass. If I hadn’t done these, you’ll be in a much more painful position,” Yeonjun gets up and pats at his knees. “You’re not exceptionally accepted by the ‘civilians’ here, ya’ know. You should have realized that by now,” Yeonjun mocks, two fingers up and crooked as he emphasizes the ‘civilians’.

Hueningkai stops in his track, then looks at him carefully, expression calculative. “Why the hell are you telling me this?”

“Don’t know?” Yeonjun casually shrugs, the kind of ignorant manner that ticks Hueningkai off. “Maybe I just like to see people like you all riled up, finally coming out of that goody-two-shoes façade that you rich kids put up all these times.”

Hueningkai’s face reddens with surpassed anger. Yeonjun secretly smirks. If he’s smart enough, he’ll know not to take the bait. Then sure enough, Hueningkai takes a long exaggerated breath to calm his shit down and realize that this is just one of Yeonjun’s tricks to get him up all over the walls again.

Heh. One point for the mighty Hueningkai.

“You got a grudge or something on people ‘like me’? A personal vendetta?” Hueningkai asks lowly, solely for the curiosity. “Is that why you’ve been biting at me all these time from day one? Because I’m from a well-off family? Cause I got good grades? I jumped grade?”

Yeonjun clenches his chest in mock hurt. “Oh my, Hueningkai. I have never thought you think of me so lowly. How could you?”

“Then explain yourself,” Hueningkai barks, holding onto his sore hip where Yeonjun had given a round-house kick before tackling him down. Freaking guy with his fat legs kicking him around like he’s a twig. He’s getting sore for nothing.

He’s being bullied for nothing for this past month, for reasons he doesn’t know why. His classmates won’t talk to him, which he doesn’t mind at all actually but why it pissed him off is because sometimes he has to ask about schoolwork and they won’t even spare a glance at him. The seniors are giving him scornful looks and he can’t even piss in the toilet peacefully without someone telling him off that he’s the ‘errand’s boy’, a nickname he’s got after the student body heard about him being trampled over by this guy.

What a freaking great life he’s got after moving into this area.

“Why the fuck are you making my life miserable in this school?”

“Am I?” Yeonjun doesn’t finish his stick. He puts it out by crushing the lit butt to the sandy part of the ground and peers up at Hueningkai with blank eyes. “I guess so. Try asking that to some of your friends that are observant enough.”

He takes his knapsack and casts a look at his chubby legs, the slacks clinging much tighter to his skin than they did last week. Great. He’s gained weight, again. Looks like that all-protein based diet he’s been on this week didn’t work. Before he leaves, he turns over to have a last look at Hueningkai.

“Know this, Huening. This ain’t gonna be the last fight you’ll ever have in this school. Find someone compatible to teach you stuffs so that you could at least survive here, if it ain’t me.”

**◆◇◇◇◆**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo now that yeonjun's left him alone, whaddaya think? is huening gonna feel any better with that?
> 
> i've made chapter count and woah i never expected it to be close to 30 @~@ for the first 5-6 chapters are gonna focus on how things unravel for huening and how he comes to understand yeonjun a bit more than what he initially came up with  
> thanks for reading XD


	3. yeonjun is late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why do that just now?” Hueningkai suddenly speaks, voice soft and cautious. Yeonjun blinks in fatigue, not looking at him. “Do what?”
> 
> “Hoarding those guys away just now,” Hueningkai’s voice rises a bit but still doesn’t bring his face up. Yeonjun holds in a yawn by sucking in his lips and his eyes water.
> 
> “If you feel guilty about it, buy me lunch,” Yeonjun says, voice cracking from his yawn. Hueningkai scoffs.

T Middle School, the one Yeonjun’s currently studying in is your typical school in the movies and dramas you see. Just, heavy on the rebellious and idiotic side. First week of Yeonjun being here, he’s already known that none of these shithead excuses of classmates will get along with him, and a group of second-handed seniors came barging into his classroom, demanding for him. His teachers disliked him and considering his cold I-don’t-give-a-fuck-to-your-existence attitude, he was immediately granted solidity from everyone around him, especially from his classmates.

He didn’t mind this, though. This quietness, tranquility that comes with being alone. He’s free to do things that only he can finish. People didn’t bother him and he’s got the killer stare that’ll drive people away from him.

The things he noticed from this school after a few months in his junior year: if you’re new, at least a few groups of these knuckleheads will seek you over. If you’re talkative and will do errands from the seniors, they’ll consider your position in their so-called group. If you’re particularly shy (shy as in, doesn’t talk and scurries away from people) _and_ you don’t have friends, you’re getting yourself a red flag on your head.

Unless you’re a lone wolf, you’ll survive. Like Yeonjun did.

Most of the kids here are from almost to fully wrecked families, some are rebellious, some are unacceptable of their own status, some just think it’s cool if people look up to you _in some way,_ one way or another. Hence, this tradition rises over the years. If you’re not in a group, at least have two or three friends with you wherever you go and don’t make a reputation in whatsoever if you don’t want people to come up and call you out on a challenge you won’t win.

If you’re alone, don’t break down under the pressure. No matter what.

This is a concept of this goddamn hellhole Hueningkai needs to grasp before he gets side-tracked by the wrong people.

It’s 7.15 a.m. It’s Wednesday morning. The sun is up. And Yeonjun is fucking _late_.

He’s made another record today. Showering in 2 minutes, done. Wow. Last time was only 5, though. He wears his uniform in lightning speed and doesn’t even try to fix his bed hair. When he rushes down the stairways, he sees the silhouette of his father entering the kitchen before _it_ erupted.

“I told you I was out with my colleagues!”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes. God, here we go. Fuck, what a _bad_ _timing_.

“What kind of a colleague wears a women’s perfume?” his mother yells back, the sound resonating in throughout the house like a hollow echo. Yeonjun rubs his face in exasperation and looks at his watch, the edges cracking from the entire hustle bustle he’s been doing. “And kisses you on the _shoulder_ while leaving a _lipstick print_ on it? _Classic_ much.”

7.24. Meh, he can skip breakfast. He’ll try find someone that he can squeeze some cash out for lunch later. Both his parents aren’t in the mood in giving him lunch money right now.

Just as he’s about to skip unnoticed out of the house, his mother noticed him. “Yeonjun.”

He spots in his track and curses mentally. Here goes my morning mood. He turns around and tries not to let his submission to fate shows too much on his face. “Yup?”

“You’re late. Don’t you want breakfast?” she asks, her initial annoyance barely concealed in her tone. Beside her, his father stands with a tight expression, Mrs. Choi holding tightly onto a light blue shirt, probably a button-down shirt his dad wore last night.

Seriously? Caught red-handed first thing early in the morning? So classic.

“Nope. Not hungry,” he answers briskly, flashes them a wide (fake fake _fake_ ) smile and proceeds to the door. “Bye, mum, dad.”

“Do you have some lunch money left—”

“I’m fine, mom. Thanks. Bye.”

Well, at least Yoongi doesn’t have to witness that on his way over to his working place today. He slips on his shoes, takes a deep breath and imagines all negative feelings are fusing out of his body and meddles with the air around him in search of another body to reside in.

He hates his school as it already is. Coming to it with sour feelings will just make it worse. He glances at his house once before sprinting his way to school. His family consisted of 4, but his house is big enough for 10 adults to live in, based on what his neighbors and classmates said (those who’ve seen it first-handedly) so they have considered him born in a well off family, can get anything he wants with not much effort.

Meh.

Okay, maybe not _meh_ enough since at the end of the day, he still got enough money to buy himself a full BigMac set from McDonalds. _But_ , honestly speaking, his family is fractured enough that it annoys him. Something that he’ll never speak of to anyone.

Not that he’s shameful about it; it’s just that he would like to keep a low profile. It’s enough that he’s known school-wide and he’s got some clashes with gangs from other school. Having that kind of scandal involving his family going around is just asking him to set fire to the whole neighborhood, preferably the part where most of his schoolmates are living in.

He sprints off, stomach growling in protest and he pats at it apologetically. Mr. Changwok, the English teacher slash head of the disciplinary is definitely going to kill him the moment he steps his foot into the school compound. It’s not the first time, anyway. He’s seen him often enough in that position that he can recognize him 20 meters away by just a look at his head.

He passes by an alley a few blocks away from the school. _Almost there._

He glances to his side as he runs, a habit of his to observe his surrounding wherever he goes, and spots something that piques his interest. He makes a U-turn and peeks.

Well, well. Look what he’s got here. It’s Hueningkai, being cornered by 4—5 guys deep inside the narrow alleyway, them hovering over him and Hueningkai looking down with an exasperated look. Damn. He must have been on the way to school and got dragged in there.

After that historic day of revelation (the _fight_ ), Yeonjun’s left him alone, as in _literally_. He didn’t come to him anymore, didn’t greet, didn’t call him out. None. Even the students ponder over them whenever they see Yeonjun passing by him without even a glance. Yeonjun’s actually giving the kid some time to think.

Think about how he’s going to overcome whatever’s coming his way while juggling schoolwork and grades like Yeonjun have done these past few years. Nothing necessary, though. Yeonjun’s done it by going with the flow. Means, he deals with them on the spot spontaneously. He doesn’t think or ponder much on one thing too long. But for Hueningkai, the calculative brat, he may or may not need it.

Now, “You really can’t survive without me,” he’s feeling rather inferior over the fact that he’s going to be eaten alive by Mr. Changwok after this. But oh well, once in a while, no harm in that.

The boys look at him and Hueningkai’s eyes widen in surprise. The boys from the other school eye him a bit closer before theirs too widen, this time, with a hint of nervousness tainting them. “You’re—”

“Oh, _hi_!” Yeonjun greets casually, tooth-cavity cheerful, waving at them giddily. Hueningkai cringes at the gesture. “You boys not going to school yet? It’s almost eight. You’re gonna get fried by Mr.Changwok.”

This statement baffles them and so is Hueningkai. Yeonjun’s smile widens a fraction before his eyes glimmers with something wicked and deceiving. “And also by _me_ if you don’t let that boy go to school too. He’s mine.”

Okay, that strikes an arrow right through them. Hueningkai’s face going blank at the face (probably picturing too many scenarios regarding that last claim) but all five of the others are blanching already.

They whispered to each other, hesitance clear in their movements and Yeonjun’s growing impatient. He peers at his watch and he can feel migraine teasing at his nerves as he sees the arrow pointing too close towards the 12 o’clock. He sighs and cracks his knuckles.

“Fine, we’ll do this the hard way,” he advances forward, neck cracking. Exercise and warm up your body first before you decide to engage into any physical activity, the first rule he sets in his head that he follows religiously since he went rogue like this.

The guys shriek, _literally_ , and sprint away from the scene towards the back of the alley before Yeonjun could even get as close as 5 meters to them.

He stares at their retreating backs in boredom. _What a waste of my 2 minutes_.

Giving the eye to Hueningkai, he says “Come on, brainy. We’re late,” and turns on his heels. Seconds later, he hears Hueningkai’s footsteps slowly approaching him and distances a foot beside him.

Glancing through the corner of his eyes, he sees Hueningkai’s face looking down and his tuft of black hair, flat and smooth and shining so black Yeonjun thinks they’ll gloss blue under the sunlight.

At this position, he just noticed that Hueningkai is actually a few centimeters shorter than him.

Just like what Yeonjun expected, Mr. Changwok is waiting for them and other unfortunate students late enough in the day of his duty day and now, he finds himself and Hueningkai (and also those unfortunate souls) doing a half crouch for 10 minutes straight. Not halfway through and he can already see some of them already quivering with their thighs and complaining.

Hueningkai is not bad, though. He’s maintaining his posture as rigid as Yeonjun is with arms parallel in the air, face impassive as he stares straight ahead. Some students peer over the windows of the school building to see who get to be punished today and in all honesty, Yeonjun doesn’t see the joy of seeing someone else at the receiving end of such thing.

“6 minutes more,” Mr. Changwok announces with an appropriately loud voice, receiving a round of whines and complains from the (a total of eight) students. Yeonjun sighs discreetly.

“Why do that just now?” Hueningkai suddenly speaks, voice soft and cautious. Yeonjun blinks in fatigue, not looking at him. “Do what?”

“Hoarding those guys away just now,” Hueningkai’s voice rises a bit but still doesn’t bring his face up. Yeonjun holds in a yawn by sucking in his lips and his eyes water.

“If you feel guilty about it, buy me lunch,” Yeonjun says, voice cracking from his yawn. Hueningkai scoffs.

“And why should I feel guilty about something I didn’t ask for?”

“Because you made me got to school late and punished,” Yeonjun states in the-matter-of-factly tone.

Hueningkai doesn’t say a word yet Yeonjun could feel his glare is directed to him even though he is still looking forward. “We _both_ got penalized. I don’t see a better outcome from there.”

“Yea well I could have just left you there and get yourself robbed at 7.50 in the morning and still get penalized.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I need to make things clear to them that you are out of the coast.”

“What?” Yeonjun doesn’t elaborate and chooses to yawn as widely and loudly as he can, surprising the handful of students there and Mr. Changwok slaps a paper fan on the crown of his head with a “Manners, young man. Additional of 3 minutes for you.”

For the rest of the day, Yeonjun still would not go near the boy in any way possible. About the incidence this morning, it is either somebody saw it or one of those boys decided that he can’t keep his mouth shut and told the whole student body about how Yeonjun scared them away with just a smile and a foot forward.

Kids these days, Yeonjun rubs at his face in exasperation. They are so exaggerating and a loudmouth.

He is currently in the sick room during recess, nursing a cold box of milk as Soyeon, the school’s doctor, looks over the rashes on his torso.

“You have to be more careful. And these aren’t _rashes_ ,” Soyeon reprimands him as she applies cooling pads to the red bluish skin. It feels hot and prickly, he had said. “These are bruises. You bruise too easily and bleed too much for a cut too small.”

Yeonjun waves a dismissive hand at her, teeth biting into the straw as he lifts his arm higher for her to get a wider view of his bruises. “It’s fine then. I bruise too easily and heal too quickly, too. It’s not as annoying as how achy these things are.”

“Cheeky brat. Stop picking up fights with people, will ya’? No good will come from you trying to act superior to others and making enemies,” Soyeon stretches a pad over a particularly burning bruise at the dip of his lower ribcages and he sighs at the cooling effects it immediately settles on his skin.

“Acting superior? Is that how I came out as?” Yeonjun asks, more towards humoring himself rather than inflecting on her words.

She doesn’t fall on his escapades and decides to just press a pad on a particularly sore part of his shoulder with unnecessary force that manages to gain a sharp yelp from him. She grins in triumph at the pout she received.

“You’re notorious and doesn’t listen to people and you scared half of the student body the last time we asked you to give a speech about our president in English.”

“And I did give a speech about our beloved president.”

“And you were glaring at everyone with your insanely accurate American accent which, by the way, where the hell did you get that? You said you’re bad in English. You dirty liar,” Soyeon glares at him playfully from the corner of her eyes as she collects the plastic covers of the cooling pads and stuff them into their box, throwing it into the bin filled to the brim with used latex gloves. Just what the hell has she been doing with all of those gloves?

“I am. My grammar is shitty and—” the door of the room slides open, they both turn to the intruder, who happens to be Jaejoong, the school’s chemistry teacher. He looks taken aback before squinting his eyes at the appearance of Yeonjun.

“Yeonjun, you’re 5 minutes away from the bell ringing. Go to your class,” he says, purposely asserting firmness into his tone to which Yeonjun thinks is out of place and untimely. He’s getting himself treated right now, is the teacher blinded by his own curtain-bangs to not see the bruises on his shoulders?

Yeonjun is not one to flash his own vulnerability to people but when the situation calls for it, he doesn’t mind. As long as he benefits from it. But he doesn’t quite see that he’ll get anything from going against this teacher as of now.

“Mr. Park. Yeonjun is not done with his treatment—”

“I know what I’m looking at and I know this kid is more than capable of taking blows to himself since he’s so good at it,” Jaejoong snaps, cutting Soyeon’s words off and Yeonjun could almost immediately sense the spike to her pheromones, her fingers clenching tightly to her gloves in suppressed anger at the teacher’s blatant display of despise towards Yeonjun.

“I’ll go now, noona,” Yeonjun speaks out loud, hopping off the bed and smiling widely at her as he adjusts the hem of his uniform, rolling down his sleeves and crouching to grab his bag.

Soyeon looks at him with pursed lips, silently apologizing him for not being able to do any further. He smirks, leans forward to slide his fingertips across her ear, a gesture of affection that Soyeon had long registered as him appreciating her as an older sister, no matter how suggestive it looks like, especially when it is being witnessed by the very teacher who would drop an accusation on Yeonjun just because he can. And also just because.

“Bye, noona,” he bids goodbye and briskly walks out of the door, passing by the obviously fuming teacher as if he doesn’t exist and didn’t just interrupted them during his treatment.

Jaejoong has been crushing on Soyeon since day one.

Just a few weeks before, he has been trying to court her, only to be rejected profusely, over and over again. It doesn’t help the fact that he is also the one who sometimes comes up with excuses to get Yeonjun into trouble: making him clear the courtyard, demanding him to run extra lap when he comes to school late when he’s not even the teacher _in charge_ that morning, all those typical teacher-bullying stuffs.

And the fact that Yeonjun is close to Soyeon more than she would ever let any other students in school gets, it just fumes him even more.

Yeonjun yawns as he reaches his locker. Huh. Who even cares? Yeonjun doesn’t.

There is just nothing better than some good ol’ teacher bullying and resentment to make his high school experience more extra-ordinary, wouldn't it?

The bell rings, students quickly emptying the hallways into their respective classroom yet Yeonjun languidly goes over to his locker. What he finds in there surprises him a little.

A square box the size of his entire hand sits idly in it.

He looks around. No one.

Who the hell just picks on his locker? There is no sign of it being broken into.

He takes it and something slips down from underneath it. He bends down and scrutinizes the bright red post-it note.

_i dont have extra money on me rn so just take my lunch instead_

_dont u dare throw it away or ill hunt u down_

The words scribbled there is messy but in a straight line that has him raising his eyebrows. Yeonjun tears open the lid to find cold four pieces of meat wraps, the rice-paper wraps almost bursting from how packed they are with meat and vegetable fillings. His stomach growls loudly in approval.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it seems the first 5 chapters would be awfully slow paced, isnt it? yeonjun is still not opening up to huening and huening himself is still left in the dark here. did you guys get the ambiance of their school? i tried conveying as much as how it was during my middle school so that you could guess how yeonjun grew up to be like how he is at the moment :D


	4. he comes around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeonjun perches a hand on his hip and crooks his head to the side. “How mean. You basically threatened your way into my room and you wouldn’t even tell me what dragged you through shit?”
> 
> Hueningkai sighs, eyes closed, as if contemplating his decision into coming here in the first place. Yeonjun bites back a giggle, amused.
> 
> For someone who discreetly sworn him off as a mutual enemy, the kid sure trusts him enough to come knocking on his window for some mere wound nursing.

It takes a while.

A while as in the whole entire month for Hueningkai to figure it out because he moved into this school when it’s two months away from midterm so he’s been busy with exam preparation and add his poor social attitude and approach towards his peers, he’s having trouble in maneuvering his way with finishing assignments and schoolwork without anyone to refer to except the teachers, and they themselves have been busy these days.

But he does come around.

He starts to get it when he was passing down the stairs on his way to the cafeteria, having spotted a few older students, hovering over a much smaller hunching student at the bottom of the stairs. He’s not sure what they were up to but it’s clear that the one in the middle is scared to death, considering how he clenched on to his own chest in dear life as the boys around him taunted him, making gestures that were mocking him and being too close into his personal bubble.

Heat boiled in Hueningkai’s blood, spreading fire like crackles across his skin and chest. That situation struck something within him, too familiar. Too infuriating.

He didn’t bat it away, though.

Instead of turning his back against it like he normally would in the past few months, he decided to wedge in for a change.

“Hey, douches,” he barked. All of them snapped their heads upward in shock, staring up at the one who dared to shout at them in the middle of their ‘session’. “The hell do you think you’re doing with that guy?”

“It’s the errand boy,” one of them had muttered unintelligently out loud, and Hueningkai ticked off.

“You say that again,” he gritted out, escalating down the stairs with a speed and expression of death that made them all scampered around like rats, suddenly afraid to face the one person in school that no one could get their hands on.

Hueningkai looked around, saw the last of them disappearing into the far corner of the hallway, and clicked his tongue in annoyance. He turned around, ready to launch into rapid-fire questions when he saw the earlier cornered guy looking at him in slight terror. Hueningkai stood his guard.

“What?” he almost snapped, only to take it back when the boy flinched at his tone.

“Sorry,” he apologized, feeling a bit bad at the guy for suddenly acting like that out of nowhere. The boy shook his head in haste, already turning away to leave Hueningkai there before he stopped in his track, reluctantly regarded him with cautious eyes.

“Thank you but…you should…mind your own business after this. You never know if they’ll come after you,” he warned, the softness of his voice out of place in regard to his words.

Hueningkai was left confused at this as the boy quickly made his way out of there. What did he mean by them coming after him? What did he do to make them want to take revenge? All he did was bark, and maybe intimidated them a little.

Well, Yeonjun was probably right about him being a city kid, not knowing about the world enough outside of his comfort zone.

Hueningkai forgot about the entire situation as he went through the whole day like usual, it was supposed to be another normal day in school when just as he was on the way back home, he found himself trailed after by some kids who turned out to be the ones from recess.

“What the,” he muttered when he felt cornered by them in one particular alley, a good five of them rounding him up. They looked at him with the kind of smugness that kind of annoyed him. “What do you want?”

“Hey, look. The errand’s boy is lost,” one of them had said, the tone so mocking and sneering he was a bit confused as to why his friends laughed along. One look at them and he already knew they were seniors in his school, a bunch of delinquent-wannabes who flunked out almost every subject and picked on the younger and weaker ones to make themselves feel better.

“Stop calling me that,” he hissed. They made stupid gestures at him, tongue out and noises so loud he couldn’t believe they were much older than him.

“Why not? It is true, isn’t it? You dogged around Choi and doing every little shit he told you to do. You think you’re that invisible just because you were marked by him first?” they jeered at him, Hueningkai feeling the first simmering of his blood underneath his skin a little too hot for his liking.

 _Is that why these baboons have been calling me that?_ Hueningkai scoffed, loud and disbelieving enough that it effectively shut them all up. “And you’re those pathetic apes who bark at people who won’t even think twice about fighting you back because it’s a waste of their time.”

He’s not usually this callous, to be very effing honest. But enough is enough. He’s had enough of playing nice.

Anger flashed in their eyes and Hueningkai smirked in triumph, despite knowing he’s going to get it because of that. “A piece of advice from me: try pick on someone your own size. You’d actually know what I mean if you face Yeonjun yourself but I doubt that because you people are a bunch of cowards.”

One of them barked out a disbelieving laugh at his presumably harmless yet taunting retort, before he growled.

“You think you’re so big, huh? You son of a bitch,” Hueningkai didn’t really see that one coming, he did expect it but still, definitely not ready when the other went straight on punched him in the guts, wheezing air out of Hueningkai’s lungs and he doubled over.

The others took the opportunity and lunged after him, kicking him and throwing messy punches at him blindly and Hueningkai could tell right away they are really just a set of stupid punches and kicks instead of brains and strategy, yet it didn’t dispel the fact that it hurt and he toppled over at the force, got himself stepped and stomped on non-stop by these juveniles.

“You like that, huh, asshole? Take that shit, you—” somewhere in the line, Hueningkai felt his face being mushed to the dirty ground by a foot pressed painfully against the back of his face.

And that’s when he lost it.

He growled menacingly, the sound coming out deep from within his chest and loud enough that it managed to slow down their assaults on him. His hand shot upward, fingers curled tightly around the ankle of the guy currently stomping on his head, face slowly turning against the soil enough for him to face them halfway.

There must have been something within his eyes because the three of them immediately stopped and retracted any physical contact from him, Hueningkai gritting bloody teeth up at them and fingers clasping so tightly around the ankle that Hueningkai swore he heard something cracked.

The guy he was holding onto screamed sharply and tried to yank his foot away, yet he couldn’t even budge. Hueningkai was suddenly gaining an upper hand on them. Strong.

Too strong.

“You know what my mama used to say to me,” Hueningkai snarled lowly, body still coiled into himself on the ground, pupils blown and glowing bright yellow and one of them actually whimpered at the sight.

“Oh shit,” the whimpering boy stuttered out. “Shit, Yonho, I told you he’s one of _them_ I _told you_ —”

“Never ever,” Hueningkai’s fingers impossibly tightens, body already crouching up to sit, the initial pain all over his body already going numb from his growing anger. The others quickly backed up at his rising, their scents doused with fear now, gone the lazy snob stench that surrounded them just now; except the one boy Hueningkai’s holding onto, doubling over to grip at his paining leg, screaming at Hueningkai to let him go. Hueningkai’s eyes widened and he felt that familiar tug of his gums as his teeth grew inside his mouth. “Step on anyone’s head. Ever.”

With a subtle loosening of his fingers, the boy stumbled backward from his own pulling, scrambling towards his retreating friends with apparently teary eyes as Hueningkai slowly lifted himself up on his feet, licking at his upper teeth before scowling deeply at the strong taste of iron in his mouth.

He spat the blood to his side, ran the back of his hand across his messed up bangs, and threw the coldest, sharpest glare he could muster up during the moment of pain at them, praying silently that they would fall for it and get the hell out of there and just leave him alone.

It worked. “He’s a Canis,” one of them hissed out in utter incredulity, the fear was real in this one. Hueningkai craned his head to the side, eyes shining brighter and he growled, teeth bared and they shuddered at the blatant display of fangs. Domineering.

“You wanna go? Ready when you are,” Hueningkai challenged. It didn’t take long for them all to pick themselves up and get their asses out of there before Hueningkai decided to launch on them. Not that he planned to.

All of that show was just to scare them away. Stupid humans. All he did was cat scared them and they scampered off like rats.

And just like that, Hueningkai staggering his way towards home with dirty clothes and wounds to tend to while thinking how the hell he’s going to hide these from his parents, did it dawn upon him.

_If I hadn’t done these, you’ll be in a much more painful position._

Had Yeonjun been trying to warn him while also taking the position to himself to make Hueningkai’s year in school a living misery? To indirectly say that showing kindness towards people, here, doesn’t show that you’re a good person. That helping someone out of their own troubles meant making himself an easy target.

That when you stand up to someone, it meant you are willing to take up the spot of their own shoes. And their attention will completely shift towards you.

He groans out loud, winching when the cut on his lower lip vibrated at his staccato. So frustrating. He never really understands Choi Yeonjun and his quirks and his mood swings. His metaphorical words, his purposeful misleading. What, bullying him in front of everybody else to prevent potential predators from coming after him? That don't make the situations any better.

Hah, who cares about that now? He needs to deal with his bruises and the foreseeing wrath of his parents first. He can deal with Yeonjun later.

He stops in his train of thought. He squints down at his messed-up uniform, the small torn at his kneecap and the shoeprints all over it. He thinks again. _Or maybe_ …

There’s a loud banging of the door downstairs, muffled by his closed bedroom door and Yeonjun can only assume that one of his parents had stormed off in the middle of one of their usual fits.

He rolls his eyes and resumes his homework at the study table he had maneuvered towards the corner of the room where he’s closest to the window and can bask in all the glory of the sunlight and rains when it falls.

Yoongi’s out for work and wouldn’t be back for another 3 or so hours so if he can pour all of his focus into his homework, he can finish all 4 subjects of them so that he can have time to chat with his older brother.

Yeonjun’s family isn’t your typical family, but he’s one of those closest to normal ones here. A workaholic woman for a mother that currently has three jobs in a week who is in general not at home long enough for him to even figure out the color of her hair properly, a fairly normal father that has a normal working shift at the social department at human health care office (if Yeonjun ignores the fact that his mom had _just_ found out he’s having an affair with a young lady working as a waitress at the doughnut store at the end of the street a few miles away), and an older brother, Yoongi, who quit furthering his study after high school to also (not surprising) work, having a 9-7 shift at a music studio that’s particularly far from their home.

Oh and Yoongi’s adopted, too. And he’s much more accountable in this family than their parents can ever be. 

Yeonjun doesn’t remember how it all started, it’s vague and blurry in times and images whenever he tries to recall them. He only ever caught on the shift in the atmosphere when he was around 9, 10 years old, he guesses?

Mom had been working too much, their dad felt neglected and unimportant and had been cheating on her at some point along the run, and thus it reflected upon them, too. And then, all hell broke loose.

He feels a migraine coming on its way towards his nerves and decides that he needs a break from his homework (and the thoughts of his parents). He swivels in his desk chair, closing his eyes tight and lets out a discreet whistle.

Kindness is taken for granted here. At least in this household, he knows when someone is feeling rather apologetic, or they’ve just had too much soju down in their system and is ready to spew out all the shits that were buried in their history as a family.

Out there, he can trust no one.

There’s a knock (bang) on the window of his room, scaring the hell out of his skin because it’s past 8 in the night, the night is dark outside, no one’s home, and _is that a person ramming at his window, on the second floor?_

He freezes in his seat, fingers stilled from writing his answers. He stares at the glass panel, tinted black because his mother is paranoid of stalkers, couldn’t see anything other than the reflection of his wardrobe at the other side of the room—

“Yeonjun hyung,” a voice, sounding muffled from behind the window.

Yeonjun backtracks in his speeding train of thoughts. He recognizes this voice.

“Open the window or I’ll break it.”

The window panel slides up with rickety sounds, Yeonjun blinking confusedly at the sight of a worn-down Hueningkai peering down at him from where he’s perching upon the tree’s thick branches, the tree standing tall and firm beside the house where the branches lead strategically up towards his room.

Yeonjun, instead of worrying at the sight of the bloody mess that is this child, is more puzzled to see him hovering outside his window. On a tree. In front of his window. On the second floor. At night.

“What the hell—”

“Help me clean my wounds and lend me your uniform, a new one preferably. Help me just this once and I won’t tell your parents on you,” Hueningkai offers almost instantly, voice deadly serious for someone who looked as if he just got ran down by a bike.

Yeonjun scoffs. The nerve of this kid.

He lets him in, though. Not because he’s worried about Hueningkai’s threat, but is interested in what his days at school had been for all the time he had left him unattended.

He’s getting his answer now in a form of soiled uniforms and beaten body.

“I left you alone for 3 weeks. Is it? Wow. Look at what you’ve gotten yourself into,” Yeonjun clicks his tongue, making way for Hueningkai to sluggishly climb inside, battered and soiled. A patch of his hair is matted on one side of his head and briefly, he wonders if the kid got beaten up near a dog’s marking.

But he doesn’t smell especially horrendous or awful asides dirt and a muted musk, so Yeonjun takes that a good pass for the kid to sit down in his room.

“None of your business,” Hueningkai replies, looking down.

Yeonjun perches a hand on his hip and crooks his head to the side. “How mean. You basically threatened your way into my room and you wouldn’t even tell me what dragged you through shit?”

Hueningkai sighs, eyes closed, as if contemplating his decision into coming here in the first place. Yeonjun bites back a giggle, amused.

For someone who discreetly sworn him off as a mutual enemy, the kid sure trusts him enough to come knocking on his window for some mere wound nursing.

“Whatever. Sit down by the bed and don’t touch anything,” Yeonjun pulls the disarray blankets on his single bed taut on the way into the bathroom, fetching the first aid kit from the back of the toilet bowl. When he comes out, Hueningkai’s already gotten comfortable at the edge of his bed, head tilting back with his legs spread out on the floor, eyes closed. His jacket is draped over his thighs, sleeves rolled up to the elbows to expose the wounds and tar-scratches all over the skin.

“You seriously look messed up,” he comments. He belatedly realizes the wooden corner of his potion box peeking out underneath the bed and subtly kicks it back further underneath before sitting down in front of the boy.

Hueningkai spares him a tired glance as he starts working on the scratches and busted skin on his arms, biting back occasional hisses as Yeonjun swabs alcohol-dipped cotton balls over them.

Occasionally, Yeonjun would take glances at his face, most probably to make sure that he’s tending to every spot those bastards managed to get. Hueningkai kind of wants to entertain himself that the older care enough for the level of pain he can tolerate.

“I’m guessing you don’t normally deal with this type of thing but it’s common sense. Don’t expose them to anything but clean water and make sure they’re always dry even after you applied ointment.”

“I don’t have ointment.”

“Now you have it,” Yeonjun slams a round palm-sized container onto his lap, the muscles jumping at the impact as Yeonjun hits him where they are sore from being kicked on. Yeonjun grins at the glare he receives.

“Just put them on and let it dry. But looking at your wounds right now,” Yeonjun lifts Hueningkai’s hand up to his face so that he could inspect the back of his hand closely. “They’re already starting to close up after I cleaned them. You got some pretty dope healing ability.”

“That matters?”

“Of course it matters. I could have a paper cut and it would still bleed after 2 minutes unless I press them on hot steel,” Yeonjun patches and wraps the cleaned wounds with practiced motions and with such ease that Hueningkai wonders if tending to something like this is a regular basis for the older, or he’s just someone really good with his hands.

“But Canises heal fast.”

“Meh. Most of them. That doesn’t include me.”

Hueningkai doesn’t press further, thankfully. Yeonjun is not feeling chatty for the day.

He gives a final pat to the last patch before getting back into the bathroom, rummaging through the bottles of healing potions he made in advanced for situations like this.

Just he didn’t think it would be someone outside of his household.

“Uniforms,” he throws a pair onto Hueningkai’s laps, who had jumped up at the sudden weight. Belatedly he realizes the kid had dozed off again and wonders just how badly had he put up with the beatings. “And meds.”

Hueningkai blinks, groggy, at the small slim bottle of ruby liquid shoved into his open palm as Yeonjun paces around the room stuffing the Aid kits and bloodied cotton balls to where they belong.

“Do wash them before giving them back. Yoongi hyung is hella sensitive to smell and he’ll flip the whole house upside down at the scent of a stranger.”

Hueningkai shakes his head, probably tutting the normality of his household behaviour. He doesn’t care. He feels comfortable around the kid enough now that he could spew shits about his family and himself without needing to worry about Hueningkai opening his mouth later on.

“But I’m already in the room. How am I supposed to get rid of my scent? I didn’t think that far when I came over.”

“Febreeze exists.”

“And this?” Hueningkai raises the bottle, the liquid sloshing lazily as he twirls it around. “Where did you get this?”

“Aren’t you gonna ask what’s inside it? That could have been poison I’m giving you,” Yeonjun raises an eyebrow. Hueningkai stares back at the liquid, with suspicious air of familiarity. “The last time I’ve seen a working potion is when I was 11 something.”

Oh. Oh shit.

His makeshift box of potion kits screams bloody murder at him from beneath the bed.

“If this is what I think it is, it’s rare,” Hueningkai blinks down at the bottle, now with profound interest. Typically, Yeonjun’s first reaction to this kind of situation is to clam up with the hair on the back of his neck rising still. “Heilung?”

Yeonjun ups and makes to fix his blankets on the bed, just to mask the panic slowly showing itself on his face. “Yep.”

“Wow,” Hueningkai whistles. “Potions are serious business. How did you even get your hands on one of these?”

“Friends of old relatives,” Yeonjun smoothly lies.

“Hah. I wouldn’t wonder,” Hueningkai admires the potion under new light now that he realizes what it is. “Are you sure about giving this to me? Aren’t they hard to get?”

“Sure if you could keep your mouth shut about it.”

“You didn’t think I would recognize a potion, didn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t even guess,” Yeonjun says with honesty that Hueningkai doesn’t try to pry more on the sensitive subject. How Yeonjun is able to connect himself with witchery.

“Do you know how to use it?” Hueningkai stares at him, long in the eyes that for once, for _once_ in half a year after they met, Yeonjun feels opened. Bared. “I would like it better if you give me directions.”

“Just take it before you sleep. Preferably at the peak of the night. It works better when the world is at its stillness,” he shouldn’t have included that last claim. He could have given himself away from than he would have intended to. “So if you could avoid showing yourself to your parents for this night, you wouldn’t even have anything on you by the time morning comes.”

But Hueningkai takes his orders in strides, pocketing the potion into his pockets like it’s made of thin glass. To be fair, the bottle is glass but Yeonjun appreciates the subtle act of care, even if it’s not directed to him. He did put too much effort into making those potions.

“I won’t tell anyone. But potions are serious business, I hope you’re aware. We haven’t heard of a witch for over 70 years.”

“Now aren’t you a dedicated journalist,” Yeonjun teases, but he couldn’t deny the faint stabbing of anxiety on his chest at Hueningkai’s exclamation.

“My father puts on the news channel every morning for the whole house to hear,” Hueningkai smiles, faint, before it disappears from his face. “I hope you know what you’re dealing with.”

Yeonjun sinks down into his bed heavily, pulling one of the pillows there onto his lap to keep himself occupied. “Get out already, kid. It’s almost 10.”

Hueningkai rolls his eyes at the blatant ousting but doesn’t press on. It’s true. He’s lounging out in here for almost an hour now and while his parents never question his reasons regarding staying out until as of late, he’s never ever gotten home past 9. At least, not ever since Daegu.

“Put on a bandage on your face even if your wounds are completely gone tomorrow.”

Hueningkai sneaks a glance towards Yeonjun, but the boy is already halfway inside his blankets, getting cozy with his phone 2 inches from his face. “And close the lights on your way out. The switch is at the door.”

Hueningkai leaves without another word, as silent as he had come knocking on the window. Yeonjun has to wait for a few minutes more before throwing the blankets off of him and peeking out from the window.

The kid manages to leave without leaving any footsteps behind, the path leading down the road from the trees showing no pressures or skit marks left from jumpy feet. When he sniffs around his room, however, there’s still those muted musk tinging the air wet. Dewy?

Such a countryside scent for a city kid.

He sprays the room with his own homemade scent-concealer, completely subduing any evidence left of Hueningkai’s visit, and his mind wanders back to their previous conversation.

Hueningkai knows how to recognize a potion.

Which means, he would be able to distinguish a witch from others, wouldn’t it? Or at least recognize witchcraft if he sees one because for him to immediately catching on the properties of Yeonjun’s potion at first sight, that’s already a red flag on Yeonjun’s head.

Witchery isn’t forbidden, but certain dark events pulled by groups of witch rebels and terrorists almost 60 years ago to the nation had driven all of their kind down into the ground. Never to be heard of, never to be seen ever again. Including Yeonjun’s grandmother.

Growing up, Yeonjun’s have had his fair share of stories and myths shared by the people and acquaintances around him about his own kind, how manipulative and dark they could be given their ability to wipe out a population off the surface of the earth if given the right conditions.

Canises are looked up to and well feared as much as they are respected. Witches are different.

It’ll be a bloody mess if someone knows the originality of Yeonjun’s status. His mistake was looking down on Hueningkai’s credibility as a Canis. No, his mistake was it _never_ occurred to him that Hueningkai could be something more than just a plain Canis.

Yeonjun looks around his room with profound apprehension, suddenly hyper-aware of the situation he is getting himself in. If words come out that he might just be the dark creature that parents often told their children as horror bedtime stories to keep them in bed, he’s risking not only himself but both Yoongi and his parents. He needs to keep his head down and lay low.

Yeonjun needs to be careful of Hueningkai from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while since i last updated, and I finally got enough time to post this one up so I hope u enjoy!  
> any confusion or question you wanna ask just holler in the comments and I'll be right back at ya (sooner i hope ;;-;;)

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry i made yeonjun a prick


End file.
